


Brothers Reunited.

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels), valuna



Series: Born To The Life [6]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-29
Updated: 2003-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels, https://archiveofourown.org/users/valuna/pseuds/valuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things aren't going well with Viggo, so Marton calls Peter to come to New Zealand to calm Sean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brothers Reunited.

**Author's Note:**

> Time element: During filming of Lord of the Rings in New Zealand.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a story about vampires. Since we all know vampires don't really exist, then the characters can't be based on real people since those people can't be vampires in a world where such creatures don't exist. We personally don't know anything about these people's lives. Don't care to. In other words, it's fiction, folks, the product of overworked imaginations.

"It's fuckin' insane, Peter." Sean's pacing the floor of his living room, half-dressed, jeans barely buttoned and shirt hanging open. "S'not like I bit him or anything." The _he_ in question is Viggo, the mortal who's discovered that Sean is a vampire, a centuries-old vampire, and suddenly can't cope with being friends, much less lovers. Tensions are tight, and it's overlapping into filming. Marton's doing his best to smooth out the situation, but he and Dominic feel the most reasonable member of the family might have more success calming Sean down. Thus, Peter's sitting in the room, having flown in for a visit.

"It's a lot to swallow at once," Peter says reasonably. "Imagine if he told you he was the devil incarnate. No, never mind, that's Marton." A moment's pause shows that levity hasn't worked and so Peter tries again. "He's _mortal_, for fuck's sake. Brain's work slower. Instinct overrides rationale."

It takes a few seconds for Peter's attempt at a joke to catch up with Sean's brain, which is running miles ahead, trying to process everything. "Marton's the devil? Well, that explains a great deal." He settles, finally, collapsing into the nearest chair. "Aw, shite, I've royally fucked it up."

"You've fucked up, certainly, but it's not the end of the world. You track him down, pounce, and fuck him." Peter shrugs. "It's always worked in the past."

"Tried. He won't let me touch him." It's the truth. Sean's tried to get Viggo alone; he's always putting Orlando between them now, and it's starting to infuriate him. "Why you think I'm wound so tight?"

"Because you haven't had a good fucking in months." That comes from Marton, sitting a little off to the side.

"Damn right." Sean smirks. "And you hadn't helped any. Can't keep your cock outta Dom and that other one, the mortal. What's his name?"

"Orlando. And if you've felt neglected, Sean, all you needed to do was tell me." Marton's smile reveals his fangs. "You know I can't resist you when you're begging."

"You're fuckin' Orlando? Thought it was one of the natives." Sean's genuinely confused. "You want me to beg, Marton? Peter, you hear that. Brother expects me to beg for what he should gladly get on his knees and offer."

"Orlando, Wenham, Urban, they're all the same when they're begging for more." Marton turns his head to glance at Peter. "And why should I get on my knees before fucking you?"

"I think you on your knees is a rather nice look, Marton." Peter smiles. "I know I don't get to see it often enough."

Marton sighs. "Ever the martyr." He slides off the chair onto his knees and moves his hands to lie on his thighs. "Happy, brother?"

"Almost." Sean mimics Marton's move, going to his knees on the floor in front of his sibling. "Meet you halfway, brother." He cups Marton's face in his hands and pulls him into a bruising, biting kiss.

"Ah, now that's better," Peter remarks, watching them. "Mind if I join in?"

Sean breaks the kiss long enough to spit out a "yes" in Peter's direction, then returns to Marton's flesh, licking over the veins in his throat, his hand sliding down to push Marton's shirt up from the waist.

Marton bends over backwards, one arm wrapping itself around Sean to bring him down with him, the other held out to Peter to pull him down into the pile.

Sean reaches out, too, his hand taking hold of Peter's wrist as his brother comes down to the floor. "This is what I miss," he rasps out. "All of us. Together." He bites at Marton's shoulder as he settles his weight atop him, nearly drawing blood. "No need for mortals."

Peter rolls almost on top of Marton, settling nicely between his brothers. "If I've understood your intentions correctly, brother, you were planning to make your Viggo one of us."

"I was." Kiss. "Still am." Lick. "Maybe." Sean's hands are making quick work of Marton's clothes, shirt up to his neck and nearly over his head. "He would be an interesting addition to the family." Sean looks up from Marton's throat. "A little cooperation, brother, and I'll get you naked."

"Sean wants another Stuart," Marton comments to Peter as he frees both his hands and rips his shirt off, then his pants. "Someone he can play with."

"And what's wrong with the Stuart we have?" Peter asks. He pulls Sean's shirt off his shoulder, down his back, tosses it aside. "I find him quite enjoyable."

Marton shrugs. "Stuart left and Viggo took Stuart's part. Sean figured that Viggo should fill Stuart's place in his bed. Got addicted, our brother did."

Sean doesn't really have an argument for them. They're right. He has gotten addicted to Viggo. He dips his head, bites Marton's shoulder again, this time drawing blood, a thick copious trail of it. He draws up. "S'only right," he drawls, "mortal should do what I say, then, shouldn't he?"

Peter gives him a pitying look before descending on the wound. He sucks lightly at it until he has a mouthful of blood, then swallows. "Times are different. Did you ever tell him that you were in charge?"

"Every single time I fucked him." Sean's smirking as he shrugs himself out of his jeans. "Damn, but I miss those days at times. When we could take what we wanted, everyone else be damned." He redirects his attention to Marton's cock, licking along its length.

"Not to mention who we wanted." Marton's fingers form fists in Sean's hair, his thumbs reaching downward to stroke at Sean's goatee. "You should keep this once filming's over."

"We'll see," Sean glances into Marton's eyes on his lick upward. "I recall asking you to keep your hair blond once and you didn't." He sucks on the cockhead, taking it completely in his mouth, scraping teeth over the hard flesh.

Marton opens his mouth to retort, but whatever he says is quickly swallowed by a groan. Peter, sensing opportunity, leans forward and kisses Marton, swallowing his cries.

Marton's cock nudges the back of Sean's throat as he sinks down on it. So good. So familiar. So much better than a mortal's. Even that adorable Viggo. He sucks harder, as if trying to pull Marton's soul out of him.

Any sounds Marton might be making are swallowed by Peter's mouth as Peter deepens the kiss, putting everything into it. His tongue catches on one of Marton's fangs and the taste of blood and brother become one.

The scent of blood thickens the air, almost overcoming the smell of sex. Sean senses Marton's climax, pushes his hand against his brother's hips, holds him down as he greedily drinks his fill of Marton's body.

Peter, feeling Marton's body shudder under him, takes one last deep lick before pulling back. His smile is bloody. "Now _that_ was worth the plane ride."

Sean kneels up, draws his hand along Marton's cock, wiping the remaining cum into his palm. He holds it out to Peter. "Want a taste, dear brother?"

"Please." Peter takes Sean's wrist in his hands and draws it to his mouth. The taste of semen and blood mix in his mouth. "Delicious."

Marton takes a deep breath, regains his voice. "Too many clothes, Peter." He rolls his head to one side, stretches out his body against the rug-covered hardwood floor. "You're going to have to shed some of 'em for Sean to fuck you, make the trip really worthwhile."

"And if I want to fuck Sean?" It's only a token protest, however, as Peter quickly skins himself out of his clothes.

"Then you'll have to ask more nicely than that." Sean smiles, runs his tongue out over his lower lip. "Haven't had you inside me in a long time."

"All the more reason to let me in now, brother."

"Still not asking very nicely." Sean looks to Marton, who feigns disinterest. "What ever happened to manners?"

"Out with the Dark Ages," Peter dismisses, then wets his lips with his tongue.

"Ah, same time we lost the taking what we want privileges." Sean sits back on his heels. "So let's recapture a bit of the old days. Take me, Peter."

"Gladly, brother." And with that, Peter pounces. Sean isn't putting up much of a struggle and so Peter quickly has Sean's legs up over his shoulders and Sean's wrists crossed above his head. "Marton, if you would be so kind..."

"You actually want me to move? After one of Sean's blow jobs?" Marton slowly pulls himself up to a sitting position.

"You already conceded that you're a martyr. Please, brother, I need to be inside him."

"Then fuck him already." Marton leans back on his elbows, not moving an inch farther, content with his seat for the show. "We're vampires, Peter, not mortals. No need to be gentle."

"Too used to bloody Adrian," Peter apologizes under his breath and then thrusts in quickly. "_Christ_."

"Fuck." Sean manages to get the word out before Peter pushes into his body. He'd planned an objection, not sure to what. "God, that's fuckin' good, Peter." The pain's sharp, intense. Marton's right. They're vampires. They don't have to live by mortal rules. Fucking was meant to be this way. Rough. Raw. "Been meaning to ask you 'bout him."

"He's, ugh, nothing." He's been missing this, with no one but Daragh occasionally stopping by. "Not even a good bite."

"You know, Peter," Marton starts, lost for a moment in Sean's pained expression. Exquisite. He shakes his head, gets back on track. "No reason for you not to just stay here. With us. At least till Sean's filming's done."

Peter shakes his head as he starts to build up a rhythm. "You've Dom. Sean's got his mortal."

"Not yet, I don't," Sean spits out between thrusts. "We can be a family again. Like we're supposed to be." Sean pushes back against Peter's rhythm, trying his damnedest to alter the pace to suit his mood.

Peter isn't about to let Sean take control. He increases his pace and grabs one of Sean's wrists to bite into. "Instant family, just add horsemen?"

Marton laughs at the turn of events. "Sean, you asked for that. Don't ever try to make Peter do it faster than he wants." He lolls his head back, stares at the ceiling for a moment. "Y'know, Peter, I don't have Dom all the time. And the mortals are getting rather boring." He brings his head back upright. "I'd like for you to stay."

"Tempt me more, brother."

"And what would tempt you, my dearest brother?" Marton coils his body up rapidly from leaning to sitting to kneeling. For someone so large, he does it with an unnatural ease. "The promise of me in your bed every night?" He slides into a space behind Peter, places his hands on those hips thrusting slowly and steadily into Sean's ass. "A mortal for us to share, to corrupt?" He leans in, drapes himself over Peter's back.

Peter is caught between pushing back into Marton's arms or forward into Sean. He settles for stretching himself both forwards and backwards and sighing in contentment. "I haven't felt this in years." He tilts his face upwards to look at Marton. "Which mortal did you have in mind?"

"You can have your pick, brother," Marton purrs against Peter's neck. "I have a couple in mind that might be to your liking." He's pressing full body to Peter's back, his cock, quickly hardening again, settling nicely into the cleft of Peter's ass. "Blond or brunette? Care?"

"Mm. Blond. To complement our brother."

Sean laughs, shifts his body, tugging his wrists up, trying to break Peter's hold. He growls. "Mortensen's out," he says. "I'm still holding out for that piece of ass."

"Fair enough." Rather than letting go, Peter tightens his grip on Sean's wrists. "And you're not going anywhere, brother."

"Oh, you can have him, Sean." Marton rocks forward. "Don't know what you see in him, anyway. I was thinking of Wenham." He clutches Peter's hips more tightly, increasing the friction. "Blond. Aussie. Open to suggestion."

Peter's finding it harder and harder to string complete sentences together. "You ever fuck him?"

"No." Marton spreads his knees just a little, positioning better. "Want me to fuck you?"

"No?" Sean echoes. He's genuinely surprised Marton hasn't had David yet. Sean's of the impression Marton and Dominic had worked their way through the cast.

"You even have to ask? Fuck me, Marton."

"M'being polite. Someone told me the other day I needed to work on my people skills." Marton smirks. "And, Sean, I kinda got stuck sorting out Sinclair, Urban and Parker."

"People skills?" Peter laughs a little. "I didn't know you had any to work on."

"You're dead," Marton says with a suitable amount of malice. He pulls his hands off Peter's hips, guides his cock to the edge of the tight opening, spreads Peter's cheeks and thrusts forward, seating himself rather handily inside his brother, not all the way but enough for it to hurt like hell. "There. You're fucked."

Peter screams as Marton makes his way in, feeling himself rip. He wasn't ready and he loves it like this. He pushes back against Marton, growls. "More, brother, or I stop fucking Sean."

"Oh, did you think I was stopping?" Marton grips at Peter's hips once more, pulls him back farther with an almost snap of his wrists. "So, fuck him. As hard as I'm fucking you."

"Christ." It's almost a complaint, forces Peter to choose between being impaled on Marton and being sheathed in Sean. "Fuck me into him."

"Shite, just do it, Marton," Sean screams. "Christ, if he doesn't move soon." He slams his head back against the floor. "The two of you will be the death of me."

"And wouldn't that be a pity," Marton smirks as he thrusts completely into Peter, the force of it being enough to propel Peter forward.

The force ripples through Sean's body as Peter's driven deeper inside him. It's bloody perfect. "God. Damn. Fuck." The expletives roll out of his mouth in damned-near intelligible manglings. He jerks upward, desperate now to get his hands undone, knowing that if he concentrates he can break free of Peter's hold. Needs to touch himself, release the fire.

Peter's grip has slackened considerably since his concentration has been directed elsewhere, so it isn't hard for Sean to break free. Peter doesn't even notice when he does, so consumed he is with being the middle in the pile.

Sean's hands go straight to his cock, fingers wrapping tightly and pulling harshly along its length. "Christ, it's been too long," he pants out. "Gotta stay, Peter. Just for this." He's so close it's almost painful.

But Peter's in no condition to answer him as he comes inside Sean. It's intense and fucking perfect.

Marton's a second behind his brothers, their timing so fine-tuned over the centuries, and very quickly they're all riding an endorphin release. "Fuck, yes."

Sean collapses under them. "Welcome home, brother," he says, leaning up to kiss Peter.


End file.
